


empty chairs at empty tables

by caesar



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Can be read with them friends or lovers, Canon Universe, Canonical Character Death, Feelings, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, I just have a lot of feelings about this arc okay, M/M, Post Episode 55, Rated for Levi's Language (Shingeki no Kyojin), take your pick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 17:13:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19067044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caesar/pseuds/caesar
Summary: there's a grief that can't be spokenLevi finally mourns.





	empty chairs at empty tables

**Author's Note:**

> this was my way of coping with episode 55
> 
> i knew my feelings would be all over the place since reading the manga destroyed me but seeing it animated absolutely wrecked me
> 
> let's wallow in our emotions together, yeah?

 The halls of HQ are silent.

 

The only sound is his heartbeat in his ears and his boots meeting the floor with each step. Bizarre doesn’t even begin to describe it; he’s always had a light step out of necessity when he lived as a thief, and the halls used to always have _someone_ passing through. To be the only one on this floor is foreign to him.

 

With each office Levi passes, he sees belongings left on desks, doors left ajar, papers collecting dust. He recalls each name whether they were a close friend or if he didn’t have many conversations with them. He feels a weight on his shoulders with each empty room he walks by.

 

_Mike. Dirk. Klaus. Dita._

 

When he reaches the one he came for, he hesitates outside the door. The office is open—because Erwin always believed in having a literal open fucking door to his comrades—and he finds that it is just as it was left.

 

The blood rushing to his head roars in his ears. His feet are rooted to the floor outside the threshold, unable to move.

 

Levi can almost see him: blue eyes drifting up from a report, a welcoming smile. He can hear the same greeting he always received.

 

_“Levi. Come in.”_

 

He does.

 

His chest rises and falls unevenly as he looks around the room. Books on a shelf have a thin layer of dust gathering atop them, their spines all worn and broken in from being read and re-read countless times. The curtains on the window are pulled open, letting the evening sunlight wash over the room in an orange glow. He takes timid steps toward the desk, trailing his fingers along the edge. He doesn’t even notice the dust he drags, raking his gaze over each item on the desk.

 

Of fucking _course_ Erwin was organized. There’s hardly anything on the surface of the desk except for a pen and inkwell, a stack of papers, and a book. The papers are documents awaiting his signature so orders can be carried out. The top paper is half-filled out, from what Levi can tell—Erwin’s handwriting was always impeccable. Careful, legible, almost elegant. Levi’s chest tightens when he remembers many late nights where Erwin helped him write in a manner that others could read instead of the piss poor scrawl he called writing. “Your reports have to be read by more than just me, you know," Erwin laughed.

 

He turns his attention to the book. He recognizes the title as a fiction novel; it was Erwin’s favorite. The spine is creased and the cover is beginning to grow tattered. Levi picks it up with both hands, opening to a random page delicately. He lifts it to his face before inhaling deeply.

 

The scent makes his knees buckle, and he collapses in Erwin’s chair.

 

_“There’s nothing like the smell of a book.”_

 

Levi hates it. Despite it all, he shuts the book and cradles it against his chest. He feels like he’s been punched in the sternum and all the wind is knocked from him. He blinks furiously, his vision blurring--his brows furrow when he feels tears fall down his cheeks.

 

“Damn it, Erwin,” he hisses. “ _Fucking damn it!_ ” he screams, keeling over in the chair, hugging the book impossibly tighter.

 

He can’t breathe, gasping for air as he feels everything inside of him shatter. His sobs rack his body and make his shoulders shake, his hands trembling as he clings to Erwin’s book. No one is on the floor so no one hears him shout and cry, cursing Erwin’s name and the Survey Corps and everything that lead them to Shigansina.

 

“Why did you make me choose?” Levi laments. “Why?!”

 

He screams again, his forehead hitting his knees as he folds. His eyes hurt from crying—when was the last time he cried?—and he feels his heart being shredded he tries to take a deep breath.

 

“I’m sorry,” he whimpers. “I’m so sorry.” He repeats his apology like a mantra, as if Erwin can hear him from beyond the grave.

 

The sun hits his back from the window, and when he feels that gentle warmth on the nape of his neck, he wonders if this pain will ever fade. His stomach is in knots when he thinks about Erwin’s sacrifice and the promise that Levi failed to keep. Bile rises in his throat when he hears his final words echo, when he recalls the exact moment he realized he couldn’t bring Erwin back to the hellish battle that he always ran headlong into. He squeezes his eyes shut as if this will keep the tears from coming, but they never stop.

 

He brings the book back to his nose, struggling to breathe when he smells the edges of the pages, not trusting himself to open the book and not tear it to pieces. He hates the smell, but it eases the flow of his tears, and the tension begins to lessen in his aching muscles.

 

He opens his eyes, puffy and swollen, but he can see through the last stray tears that betray him. He opens the book to the inside of the front cover, pursing his lips when he sees Erwin’s name written underneath his father’s.

 

_“I’ve read this so many times I probably know it by heart, but I still keep it with me. It’s all I have of him now.”_

 

Levi’s shoulders slump when he begins to stand, his body weighed down by grief. His grip on the book is firm as he turns away from the chair, all the unsigned reports, the dusty books. He stops in the threshold of the office, taking a deep breath to steel himself from more tears. He looks around one last time, unable to see Erwin at the desk anymore.

 

“Forgive me,” he whispers before he takes that step back into the hall, leaving behind the empty room.

 

He reads all night until the sun rises once more.

**Author's Note:**

>  _oh my friends, my friends, don't ask me what your sacrifice was for_  
>     
> -
> 
> much love


End file.
